


Ana're Shala

by RaeDMagdon



Series: Make Me Forget [6]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Because that's the fic, Biting, Dirty Talk, Does it count as a threesome if Jaina uses her mirror image spell to replicate herself?, F/F, Face Sitting, Fingering, Flirting, Knotting, Medieval Sexting, Omegaverse, Oral, Riding, Sexy Letters, Teasing, Trauma, minor flashbacks, threesome?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:35:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25774468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaeDMagdon/pseuds/RaeDMagdon
Summary: Sylvanas,Ask any Kul Tiran you like. Under the Sea’s power, Death comes quickly and often.JainaPS: Expect me the same evening this letter reaches you.
Relationships: Jaina Proudmoore/Sylvanas Windrunner
Series: Make Me Forget [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1305800
Comments: 76
Kudos: 434





	Ana're Shala

**Author's Note:**

> Exactly what it says on the tin. Jaina and Sylvanas exchange sexy letters, then Jaina copies herself with Mirror Image. Enjoy!

> _ Sylvanas, _
> 
> _ I am not one for letters anymore. Oh, I was once. In my younger days, I wrote constantly: field reports and the like, but also letters to my mother, always returned unread. I wrote to enemies who became fast friends, and old friends turned enemies. I wrote to the dead and burned the parchment afterwards. _
> 
> _ Sometime in the last few years, I stopped. Not for lack of time, for there is ample time at sea, but for lack of something else. For lack of good news to share. For lack of goodness within myself. For lack of dreams worth sharing. Surely you understand. Do not forget, I have seen your cabin aboard The Wail. The forlorn tower of papers on your desk did not escape my notice. I wonder, do you write anything besides field reports? _
> 
> _ Today, I take up quill and ink because I have good news. Derek arrived safely in Kul Tiras yesterday evening! You do not strike me as the sentimental type, so I will not describe our reunion in detail. Suffice to say my mother, having overcome her initial resistance, welcomed him home as her long-lost son. All is as it should be. _
> 
> _ Much as I hate to admit it, you were probably right to insist on Raising Derek in Orgrimmar, without my mother and younger brother as witnesses. I maintain that I would not have shied away from his new form. Though you insist your body is not like other Forsaken bodies, you underestimate me in that regard. However, seeing Derek changed but ‘alive’, rather than dead and then reanimated, may have spared them considerable angst. If I had attended, my mother would have insisted on attending as well. She matches me for stubbornness, you see. _
> 
> _ However, Derek strode off the latest ship from Orgrimmar, a Horde ship flying Horde colors, under his own power. My mother embraced him. _ Embraced _ him, Sylvanas, as she thought she would never do again. The past month spent convincing her this was the right course was worth it, for that moment alone. _
> 
> _ In Raising Derek, you have secured more than an alliance between Kul Tiras and the Forsaken. You have earned my personal, undying gratitude. I am forever in your debt. If there is anything Kul Tiras can provide, you need only ask. _
> 
> _ Warmly, _
> 
> _ Jaina _

***

> _ Proudmoore, _
> 
> _ Undying gratitude? For you to end a heartfelt letter with such a horrible pun should come as no surprise. A new low in what you mistake for humor, I think. _
> 
> _ It pleases me to hear of Derek’s safe arrival in Kul Tiras, and pleases me more to hear how your mother greeted him. Many think the Banshee Queen cold and merciless, but they mistake fire for ice. I burn with the desire to defend and advance the Forsaken. May Derek’s Raising herald a new era between your people and mine. _
> 
> _ I am not so naive as to believe all those yet living will come to understand the Forsaken as you do. However, I am cautiously optimistic. If we are to maintain our population, we need allies instead of enemies. To count Kul Tiras among them will prove useful. _
> 
> _ As for what Kul Tiras herself may do to repay the Forsaken… considering what Kul Tiras provided for the mere suggestion that her brother might be Raised, the Forsaken are eager to learn what Kul Tiras proposes now that he has returned. _
> 
> _ With anticipation, _
> 
> _ S. Windrunner _

***

> _ Sylvanas, _
> 
> _ Still you address me by my last name, despite my urging you to call me Jaina on multiple occasions. However, since you insist… _
> 
> _ Kul Tiras is like the sea. She allows herself to be conquered by brave sailors, but only as it suits her. Storms have been known to drag those same sailors to uncharted depths. I wonder, how deep could the Sea take one such as you? I have heard the act of drowning may be euphoric, once one stops struggling. _
> 
> _ Derek fares well, as does the rest of my family. Regretfully, I had to take my leave of them. A band of naga along Kalimdor’s northern shore required my attention. I must admit, I am troubled. Despite this new skirmish, N’Zoth and Azshara have been far too quiet of late. I cannot bring myself to believe we have truly driven them back into the depths. _
> 
> _ Yours, _
> 
> _ Jaina _

_ *** _

> _ Jaina, _
> 
> _ I was never much for sailing, so I must take you at your word. Little has changed in my undeath, but I travel where I must, how I must. At least in my new form, I no longer suffer seasickness. _
> 
> _ Your talk of storms intrigues me. Bewitching things, storms, though others may disagree. I have borne odd looks on more than one occasion when, rather than retreat to my cabin, I remained above-deck to watch the gathering of clouds. The air smells faintly of fire even as rain falls upon your face.  _
> 
> _ At times, I enjoy my contradictions. _
> 
> _ I also enjoy a challenge. Do you really think the Sea could conquer me? One who has conquered Death itself? _
> 
> _ With curiosity, _
> 
> _ Sylvanas Windrunner _

_ *** _

> _ Sylvanas, _
> 
> _ Ask any Kul Tiran you like. Under the Sea’s power, Death comes quickly and often. _
> 
> _ Jaina _
> 
> _ PS: Expect me the same evening this letter reaches you. _

_ *** _

Leaning back in the chair before her desk, Sylvanas allowed herself a rare snort of laughter as she scanned the short message, written in Jaina’s slanting scrawl. Obviously, she had composed it with more care than usual, because her handwriting was actually legible.

“Quickly and often indeed,” Sylvanas muttered, lighting the paper aflame with cold shadowfire. It erupted in a plume of purple smoke, disintegrating until it was little more than ash. She would have liked to keep it, but doing so might open her up to ridicule, were anyone else to read its contents.

_ Imagine if any of my Dark Rangers were to find it? Imagine Nathanos? _

That last prospect was also amusing, though. Nathanos would be furious were he to read this latest letter, though he knew better than to complain about Jaina in Sylvanas’s presence. She never shied away from punishing her subjects for insubordination, even her Champion.

_ So, the Sea arrives in Orgrimmar tonight. Does she truly intend to conquer me? _

That was not how Sylvanas mated. Nontraditional in many aspects, even as a Ranger-General, she was nonetheless set in her sexual routines. Now that sex had re-entered her life, she saw no reason to diverge. Still, it might prove entertaining to let Jaina make her attempt. She had endured torment beyond imagining. She could endure one omega’s teasing, until the time came to retake the reins. 

The front of Sylvanas’s breeches felt distinctly tight as she rose from her chair, preparing to descend the stairs to the lower floor of Grommash Hold. She would instruct her servants to prepare the bed she rarely used. While she had little need for sleep, her lover would require plenty.

***

Jaina arrived at midnight, through a privately conjured portal that opened directly into Sylvanas’s bedchamber. So confident was she in her welcome that she wore nothing but a soft, white-trimmed blue corset, far more decorative than functional. This was accompanied by sheer white stockings and smallclothes. As always, the silver anchor pendant glittered above her breasts.

Sylvanas remained in the comfortable armchair beside the fireplace, which she had kept burning for some time to warm the room. For Jaina’s benefit rather than her own, of course, since she was no great source of warmth herself. She continued reading the book she held, a thick tome which described elven battles in centuries past.

“Orgrimmar’s mages will be displeased that you found a way past their wards again,” Sylvanas said, without raising her eyes. She did, however, inhale purposefully. Ah! The smell of evening carried on a sea breeze. That was Jaina’s scent, the same scent Sylvanas secretly searched for on her pillow in the mornings that followed the rare nights they spent together.

“That’s their problem,” Jaina said, resting a hand on her hip. “Not mine.”

Sylvanas shut the book, setting it on the chair’s arm. “And you, I suppose, are my problem?” she asked, allowing her gaze to roam at last. Dead though she was, her heart stirred at the sight of Jaina’s narrow waist and generous hips, both perfect for grasping.

Jaina tilted her head. Her braid was coiled and pinned behind her head, which excited Sylvanas more than a mere hairstyle had any right to do. Lovely as the sight of Jaina’s hair coming free of her braid was, spilled loose around her lovely throat in a white-gold waterfall, pinning it back was a clear statement of intention. It meant the omega was prepared to use that sly, rose petal mouth for something interesting.

“If pleasure is a problem,” Jaina said, “I can always go.” 

Panther-quick, Sylvanas rose, stalking her quarry with single-minded intention. She would begin things as usual. If Jaina meant to fulfill the promises she’d made in her letters, well…then they might have a different sort of fun. Cats sometimes had the right idea, playing with their meals.

“You will stay,” Sylvanas murmured, seizing Jaina’s wrist in an icy grip. She kept her voice low, dangerously so, even as her fingers squeezed. The shudder she earned more than pleased her. “You will remove your smallclothes and bend over my bed, or you will show me what the Sea is capable of. The choice is yours, _omega._ ” This word she imbued with extra sharpness, as though she’d stroked it lovingly along a whetstone in preparation for precisely this moment. 

Her reward was a slight widening of Jaina’s stormy eyes, followed by the spread of her mouth into a most beguiling smirk. “Kind of you to give me choices, Sylvanas.” Jaina phased her wrist through Sylvanas’s grip as though her flesh were air, pressing that same hand to Sylvanas’s chest when it was once more warm and solid. “I won’t be offering any.”

Sylvanas’s tufted eyebrows twitched, but she did not resist as Jaina walked her back toward the bed, steering her into a seated position with a touch upon her shoulder. Not quite a push, but firm enough to make Jaina’s wants known without words. Her scent became sharper—more insistent.

“Well, well…” Sylvanas peeled back her lips, offering an encouraging flash of fang. She leaned on her palms, resting her weight as if sitting on the bed had been her own idea entirely. “You’re always bold, Proudmoore, but this? Tell me, if obedience is your wish, how do you intend to keep me docile?”

“With help.” Jaina snapped her fingers. Her form smudged and blurred before the backdrop of the fire, as though Sylvanas were blinking the haze of sleep from her eyes. Now three Jainas stood before her, identical down to the last freckle. 

Sylvanas ran her tongue over her teeth. Interesting indeed. “A mirror image spell.” Her eyes passed back and forth between the three Jainas. Truly, she could distinguish no difference between them, a testament to Jaina’s skill.

“No objections, I hope,” the leftmost Jaina said.

“This isn’t the first time I’ve used this spell,” the rightmost added.

More impressive still! Few mages possessed the focus required for their mirror images to act independently. More often, they were translucent copies, imitating the motions and casting the same spells as the original. That Jaina could, in essence, duplicate herself down to the last detail had never occurred to Sylvanas as a possibility.

“For past lovers?” Sylvanas asked. She did not say,  _ For your Prince? _ for they were on pleasant terms tonight.

“For myself, too,” the middle Jaina said. “My spine doesn’t bend like it used to.”

At that, Sylvanas snorted. “Truly?” A picture of loveliness, Jaina undeniably was, with full breasts and fuller hips and a constellation of freckles upon her skin, but an acrobat? That, Sylvanas would be hard-pressed to believe. She could scarcely picture Jaina with her own legs behind her head.

All three Jainas laughed. The echo might have made their voices seem eerie, but instead, the overlapping sound was warm and hearty. “No,” the leftmost Jaina said. “I’ve never been  _ that _ flexible.”

The middle Jaina was not inclined to banter. She strode toward Sylvanas on stocking-soft feet, no less regal for the lack of height and noise boots or heels might have afforded. There she knelt between Sylvanas’s knees, staring at her all the while. She ran both palms flat along Sylvanas’s thighs, traveling upward to cup the front of her breeches.

Sylvanas’s cock throbbed. The scent of the sea swelled in her nose, and salt rose in her mouth. That was good, because the rightmost Jaina hooked her thumbs in the sides of her smallclothes, pulling them down without preamble. “I mean to use that mouth of yours,” she said, throwing them onto Sylvanas’s pillow.

At the same time, the Jaina between Sylvanas’s legs unfastened her breeches, drawing her out into the cool air. Sylvanas gritted her teeth, swallowing a moan. A warm, welcoming mouth descended upon her, sucking her tip like a woman starved.

“The same result could be accomplished with one body,” Sylvanas said, “if you straddled my face in reverse.” It was a struggle to form sentences, so she settled for running her claws through the leftmost Jaina’s hair, urging her to take another inch. Oh, the sweetness of that mouth!

“Then I couldn’t watch you eat me, and that would be a shame.” The rightmost Jaina climbed into bed beside Sylvanas, urging her to lie back with a hand upon her shoulder. Unwilling to be so easily directed, Sylvanas leaned in for a kiss instead. If she claimed Jaina’s lips, she might regain some control of the situation.

Her mouth was an inch away from Jaina’s when an invisible force pushed her back, pinning her to the bed.

“What?” Sylvanas’s eyes widened with alarm, but her hips bucked, because the Jaina sucking her off decided this was as good a time as any to squeeze her knot. Soft hands kneaded the pressure there to pounding, and a wicked tongue darted along the sensitive furrow of Sylvanas’s cockhead.

Sylvanas reconsidered her objections. She was not one to surrender easily, or at all, but neither could she deny that the prospect of one Jaina sucking her cock while another rode her face was uniquely appealing. And what, she wondered, would the third Jaina do? Watch with hungry blue eyes until her turn arrived, or something else?

Her curiosity became awe as the second Jaina straddled her, bracing a knee at either shoulder. Without her smallclothes, the dewdrops of wetness that clung to her trimmed blonde curls were clearly visible, sparkling little diamonds. The seashell pink lips of her pussy smelled of heat and salt and heavenly desire. Sylvanas’s hunger got the better of her. She wrapped her hands around Jaina’s thighs, tongue already extended.

The Jaina above Sylvanas’s face rocked forward, smearing her need along Sylvanas’s lips and chin. Sticky warmth spilled into Sylvanas’s mouth, and she growled to taste it. Meanwhile, the efforts of the Jaina between her legs increased. She took Sylvanas’s cock deeper, until the tight muscles of her throat squeezed the head with every swallow. That same Jaina moaned, and Sylvanas felt the vibrations all the way in her knot. No—in the pit of her belly, where the fires of lust burned bright.

Both Jainas proved themselves such an effective distraction that Sylvanas failed to notice the final Jaina climbing into bed and swinging a leg over her midsection, until a slippery stripe of heat dragged along her stomach. Sylvanas twitched in the mouth and throat that held her, leaking profusely. She tried to remove her hands from the first Jaina’s hips, but found them glued there through some force other than her own will.

“Don’t you dare,” the Jaina riding her face said.

“You don’t need to control everything, you know,” the Jaina grinding against her abdomen added. That same Jaina paused in her rocking to cup one of Sylvanas’s breasts, rolling the nipple between thumb and forefinger. “These are beautiful,” she breathed, twisting the sensitive nub. “Shame on me for taking so little time to play with them before now.”

Beautiful? That was not a word Sylvanas heard often. She did not feel beautiful, particularly in this new form of hers. And yet, it excited her to know that Jaina found her beautiful, in some way. She dug her claws into the first Jaina’s thighs, thrusting her tongue deep. It was the clearest way she could think of to maintain dominance in the face of three goddesses intent on ravishing her.

The Jaina riding Sylvanas’s face arched and whimpered. For a moment, Sylvanas thought she had won. She mentally congratulated herself, but then an insistent hand seized her hair, directing her mouth to the reddened pearl of Jaina’s clit. Before she could resist, she found herself sucking, rolling her tongue over and around its firmness. Another part of her longed to break away. Sink her teeth into the plumpness of Jaina’s thigh. Leave her mark there. Not a mating mark, for it was the wrong place, but a mark all the same. A sign of possession.

No such opportunity came. The grip on Sylvanas’s hair tightened, and at the same time, the Jaina sucking her cock grew bolder. She drew away completely, blowing a cool stream of air across its tip. Sylvanas whimpered— _ whimpered, _ of all the disgusting noises to make!—swaying in search of the warm grip of Jaina’s throat. An unacceptable loss! She should shove off the other two Jainas, seize the hair of the Jaina between her legs, and finish—

“Not yet,” the Jaina riding her face panted. Her skin had taken on a beautiful sheen in the firelight, like a mare run hard beneath the beating sun.

“Trust me.” The Jaina astride her abdomen shifted, causing the mattress to creak. She turned around and adopted a new position, sinking down upon Sylvanas’s cock and swallowing it in the silken grip of her cunt.

Sylvanas nearly came. Her knot swelled to its full size, pounding as though it might burst, and her fingers twitched upon the other Jaina’s thighs, suddenly unsure of their grip. Something within her mind, or perhaps her soul itself,  _ snapped _ as the Jaina who had been sucking her cock resumed licking her knot, which had not yet sunk inside.

To be licked, kissed, and nuzzled while she fucked someone—it was an overwhelming mixture of sensations that Sylvanas had never experienced before. She had never even imagined such. And to taste an omega’s sweetness at the same time? She dragged her teeth along the hood of that Jaina’s clit, determined to prove herself, to give instead of merely receive.

The Jaina astride Sylvanas’s face gasped, fisting handfuls of her hair. Her hips jerked once, twice, then stilled as a rush of heat spilled forth. Sylvanas detached from Jaina’s clit, thrusting her tongue in search of more, but the hand in her hair held her close, refusing to let her shift focus.

Sylvanas snarled, burning with frustration at such an impudent denial, but the sound became lost in a choked cry. The Jaina mounted on her cock had begun riding in earnest. Her warm walls rippled with each downstroke, and Sylvanas throbbed. She hissed, her abdominal muscles tensing.

This was the way of things—an alpha, buried to the hilt inside a willing omega—and yet, it was nothing like that at all. Jaina set their rhythm, hovering out of reach whenever Sylvanas reached for her hips. Not that she could make anything but half-hearted attempts, with the Jaina using her mouth demanding more and more of her attention.

“I feel how close you are,” that Jaina said, peering down at Sylvanas with a satisfied smirk. She was still breathless from her orgasm, her hairline damp. “I can feel your cock inside me, and taste your skin too.” The final Jaina, the one licking Sylvanas’s knot, latched onto a portion of skin and swirled her tongue, sucking to emphasize the point.

Sylvanas snapped her hips, torn between trying to bury her knot in the bliss that waited above, and allowing the tender mouth to continue its ministrations. But it was not her decision to make. The Jaina riding her cock sank down only far enough to take her shaft, leaving her knot to ache against the air except for where the kneeling Jaina chose to kiss and lick.

There was no resisting such torment. The Sea was on the verge of sweeping her away, and frustrating though it was, Sylvanas found herself looking forward to where it would carry her. Knowing she wouldn’t last more than a moment or two, she turned her head despite the hand buried in her hair, sinking her fangs into the closest Jaina’s thigh. The omega’s sweet cry, a sound that rang with pleasure and pain alike, was her triumphant reward.

Satisfied she’d made her point—or several, if the marks on Jaina’s inner thigh were to be counted—Sylvanas allowed herself to come. Her chest hitched with a breath she didn’t need, and her ears pinned flat to her head as her hips surged up, seeking as much of Jaina’s cunt as she could reach with two bodies atop hers.

Sylvanas emptied in harsh spurts, rumbling around the warm, taut flesh between her teeth. She tasted a faint trace of Jaina’s blood, almost as sweet as the omega’s come, but most of her attention centered between her legs. Jaina was  _ squeezing, _ milking her in a rhythm that had to be deliberate. She released her hold and groaned something like Jaina’s name.

“That’s better,” the Jaina astride Sylvanas’s face said, petting her hair and fondling the edge of an ear. “Give me everything you’ve got. I want it all.”

Though her peak was a strong one, the end was a disappointment. Without the tie, Sylvanas’s come leaked out around the base of her cock in rapidly cooling trails, dripping down to form a small puddle on the sheets. No! This wouldn’t do at all. She reached past the first Jaina for the hips of the second, hoping to pull her down… 

… only for her disappointment to vanish as the Jaina tending to her knot made a point of cleaning each trail in turn, following them with the flat of a warm and eager tongue. Sylvanas hadn’t known she had anything left to give, but  _ that _ was enough to coax several more spurts from her softening cock.

“You’re terrible,” she grunted as the Jaina riding her cock dismounted. “Absolutely awful.”

“Me? Awful?” that same Jaina said, peeking around her twin’s shoulder. Her dimpled grin was much the same. “I was going to suggest a switch in positions, but if you aren’t interested…”

“I never denied interest,” Sylvanas rasped.

“Good,” the two closest Jainas said in tandem. The one astride Sylvanas’s face scooted forward and turned to face the fireplace, while the other faced the opposite wall. That left both of them spread before Sylvanas’s hungry eyes, one stretched and leaking pearly white come, the other with a swollen clit sucked to a bright, cherry red color.

The Jaina between Sylvanas’s legs pushed off the floor and climbed onto the bed, kissing her way up Sylvanas’s stomach until reaching her nipples. There she remained, sucking one and then the other, until Sylvanas’s cock stiffened again, straining toward the ceiling. Only then did that Jaina sink down, taking Sylvanas to the hilt in one stroke. “Oh, I needed this,” she sighed, rocking her hips faster than before. “Once you’re in me, I hate letting you go.”

Sylvanas tried to craft some kind of witty response. Something that would make all three Jainas laugh and blush. Instead, she remained awestruck as the two Jainas kneeling over her came together, stomachs brushing, thighs touching, fingers roaming.

Oh—was the Jaina who’d ridden her face spreading the lips of the Jaina who’d already taken a load of her come? Was it so Sylvanas could better see the evidence of her own pleasure? And—wait, was she pushing it back in with slippery fingers? The sight made Sylvanas’s mouth water. She so badly wanted to taste their mingled wetness, almost enough to beg.

Fortunately, she didn’t need to. As if they could read her mind, the Jaina that Sylvanas had fucked settled on her face, while the other Jaina seized Sylvanas’s hand, bringing it between her legs and forcing three fingers in at once.

After that, Sylvanas could hardly keep track of which Jaina was which. They took it in turns to ride her face and cock and hands, muttering filth all the while.  _ ‘See how easily Death surrenders if it means getting her cock emptied?’  _ No sooner had one finished, than another took her place. 

Sylvanas came again quickly, spilling inside one Jaina while another combed fingers through her hair, kissing her slick, pleasure-stained mouth. The third kneaded her breasts, biting and licking all along the plane of her abdomen. Sylvanas found herself wrapped in a tangle of limbs and mouths, with no desire to escape…

_ How is this possible? When have I ever been imprisoned without the desire to break free? _

That thought triggered a different, far less pleasant reaction. Sylvanas trembled anew, but not from lust. She ground the points of her teeth, tearing her hands away from the Jainas’ soft flesh to grip the sheets. She closed her eyes and turned away from the lips that sought deeper kisses, her heart hammering without reason.

She suddenly felt more alive—and more afraid—than she had in years. She’d been in battles that had left her less shaken.

No. She would not beg for mercy. She would endure, as she had always done. _ This is pleasure, not torture, _ she told herself, even as the fire within her died and fresh ice flooded her veins. In an instant, everything had changed. Too much. It was simply too much to be overpowered thus, in a game she had been so certain she would win.

The scar on Sylvanas’s sternum itched until it burned. Suddenly, she wanted no part of a person atop her, even an omega. Even Jaina. She pulled away from the hand in her hair and the lips seeking hers, tensing, trying to curl in on herself… 

… only for two of the three Jainas to disappear. The Jaina riding Sylvanas’s cock vanished, freeing her pelvis. So did the Jaina who had been playing with Sylvanas’s breasts and making ample use of her fingers, before Sylvanas herself had withdrawn them. That left only the Jaina whose face hovered near hers. Though Sylvanas’s eyes were closed, she felt the heat of that Jaina’s—the real Jaina’s—breath.

No longer did Jaina try to kiss her. When Sylvanas cracked an eye open to confirm what had happened, she noted a wrinkle of worry in the real Jaina’s brow. “Sylvanas,” she murmured. “Are you all right?”

Sylvanas bit down on her own lip until bitter ichor oozed into her mouth. She did not feel any pain, from her own fangs or anything else. There was only cold. So much cold, everywhere—a cold she had not felt in decades. Only the wound in the cavity of her chest continued to burn. Yet, as always, she smothered it. Ignored it. Shut it out even as it consumed her.

“Yes.” She would not break or bend, especially not to her own irrational fears… 

Rather than kiss her, touch her, or offer words of comfort, which Sylvanas was already prepared to reject, Jaina did something unexpected. She pulled away and rolled on her stomach, rising onto her elbows and knees. “I’ve had you, Sylvanas,” she said, peering at Sylvanas with eyes of the softest blue. No longer did they hold a storm. Instead, they were a clear, hopeful sky. “Now, have me. If you wish.”

Without Jaina’s hands on her, the itching at Sylvanas’s sternum began to subside. She nearly melted into the mattress in relief as the cold in her veins faded to a regular absence of heat, rather than an icy fire. Her skin no longer crawled, and neither did her thoughts.

_ Have her. Surely I am capable of that? _

Eager to forget what had happened, and eager to prove to Jaina that it was of no importance, Sylvanas accepted the omega’s invitation. No longer a wicked, teasing temptation, Jaina’s scent was all soothing reassurance now. With renewed strength, Sylvanas clambered up and knelt behind Jaina’s upturned rear, gripping the tops of the omega’s thighs.

“I did tell you to bend over my bed when you first arrived,” she purred, running both thumbs along the pouting lips of Jaina’s pussy. Fresh confidence flowed through her, setting fire to her blood once more. “Glad to see you’ve finally gotten around to listening.”

Jaina rocked back into Sylvanas’s touch, as if hoping her fingers might slip inside. “You gave me two options,” she murmured, spreading her knees further and arching her spine. “I’ve always been greedy.”

Oh, the temptation to push inside Jaina then, to hear the smooth river of her voice overflow into a welling cry, beat strong within Sylvanas’s breast! She lined herself up, sinking inside with a choked sound of her own. She savored each and every inch of the first thrust, relishing her reclamation—not just of Jaina, but her own power.

There was no need for words then. Everything Jaina offered, Sylvanas took, slowly and thoroughly. They rocked as a ship upon the waves, with low groans and sighs. Only occasionally did Sylvanas pause and shudder, grinding the top of her knot against the tightness of Jaina’s opening.

She did not ask for permission with words so much as gestures. When she rolled her hips forward, flexing her claws atop Jaina’s thighs, the omega tilted to accept her, gripping the sheets as if to brace herself. Sylvanas sank in slowly, determined not to rush. She would have this omega slowly and thoroughly, or not at all.

Jaina took her with a whimper and a toss of white-gold hair. A few wisps had escaped her pinned crown of braids, and Sylvanas felt a flash of pride for that, knowing she was the cause. “Beautiful,” she whispered, the only word she said as Jaina loosened—not much, but just enough.

The tie locked into place. Jaina came first, crying Sylvanas’s name. Her inner walls seized, and it brought Sylvanas’s end. The fire in her belly flashed bright, and she rutted deep, sinking her teeth into the lovely, unbroken skin of Jaina’s back. She would leave her mark to make up for her earlier weakness.

Long and hard she spilled, growling around the flesh she’d captured. She felt she might never empty, the way Jaina insisted on molding to her shape, so unbearably soft and tight. To conquer the sea was a heady thing, even if Sylvanas had only managed it because the sea  _ wanted _ to be conquered. In truth, that made it all the more delightful. There was little joy in the conquest of a rival who did not relish the thought of being conquered…

_ Is that why Jaina stopped before? _

Sylvanas found herself too fuzzy-headed to consider the question further. After surrendering to the wicked mercies of not one, but three Jainas, and then reasserting her claim on the original, she found herself exhausted. She would not sleep—she so rarely did—but a moment’s rest was necessary. She relaxed over Jaina’s back, supporting some of her weight on her elbows so as not to squash the omega beneath her.

“It’s all right,” Jaina said, still breathless. “You can lie on top of me. You’re light, for all your strength.”

Sylvanas did so, nuzzling the crook of Jaina’s neck. To bury her nose there, where Jaina’s scent lived, was surely the height of paradise. She would never confess such thoughts aloud, of course—but she no longer recoiled quite so much when they crossed her mind.

“I owe you my thanks,” she murmured, her lips against Jaina’s pulse point.

Jaina laughed. “I believe I owe you mine. I wasn’t sure you would agree to my little game.”

“It was exceptionally enjoyable.” And it had been. Jaina’s withdrawal at precisely the right moment had preserved Sylvanas’s earlier pleasure, for which she was grateful. “I only wish I could copy myself. To fill you three times over would be…” Despite her weariness, a small shudder coursed through her body.

“You have shadow tendrils for that,” Jaina pointed out.

“Clever omega,” Sylvanas purred. “How wonderfully filthy your mind is.”

“The rest of me is, too,” Jaina said. “We’ll need a bath before we sleep.”

Sylvanas licked a stripe up Jaina’s neck, basking in the taste of sweat and the way Jaina trembled. “Together?”

“Why not?”

Sylvanas considered that. Bathing together was an intimate act—even for elves, who told many tragic sagas of great warriors felled at the height of helplessness—but no more intimate than being sheathed in Jaina’s cunt. There was no reason to be shy, particularly around a human…even if she hadn’t bathed with anyone since her undeath.

“I have a tub,” she said, “that should be large enough.”

***

Sylvanas lay in bed, listening to Jaina’s slow, heavy breathing. Her mind floated between clouds of thought, some pleasant, others far less so. Holding Jaina in her arms was, of course, a gift. She could bury her nose in Jaina’s hair and breathe in the omega’s smell to her heart’s content. And yet, guilt brewed in her stomach.

In truth, Jaina ‘owed’ far less than she knew for Derek’s return. Were she to discover that her brother’s corpse had been found thanks to an old edict to Raise Kul Tiran soldiers for war—perhaps with Kul Tiras itself—she would not be nearly so grateful. She would not be in Sylvanas’s bed at all.

And yet, here she was. Sylvanas determined, as she had several times already, not to reveal the truth. No good would come of honesty, however much the deception ate at what remained of her conscience. She had no intention of warring with Kul Tiras, even now that N’Zoth and Azshara had seemingly returned to the depths…

“Mm…”

A low moan drew Sylvanas from her thoughts. She lifted her chin, looking down at the woman in her arms. Jaina’s forehead had creased in what looked like worry, and her eyes twitched rapidly behind their lids.

Gently, she kissed Jaina’s forehead, hoping to offer comfort. She knew well the horror of nightmares.  _ “Ana're shala, Dal’alah. Ana’re shala.” _ The words came from her lips unbidden, and Sylvanas felt a frostbolt of panic until she realized that Jaina did not understand much Thalassian, and was also asleep.

Regardless, her tender words did little to help Jaina. The omega continued moaning, shuddering in Sylvanas’s arms. Her body became an inferno, skin burning and slippery with sweat. “Queen!”

“What?”

“I hear…I hear your song…I…”

Jaina’s eyes snapped open. She inhaled a frightened breath, and Sylvanas felt an odd flare of arcane energy. However, it vanished as quickly as it came. “Hush, Jaina,” she said in Common. “You are safe in my bed.”

“Safe.” With a yawn, Jaina closed her eyes again, as if she weren’t plagued by nightmares at all. She rested her head on Sylvanas’s shoulder, and her cheek stayed smushed there as she drifted back into a much more peaceful slumber. Soon, she was snoring, and not quietly either.

The rest of the night, Sylvanas lie awake, wondering. What kind of nightmares did an archmage with Jaina’s power and past have? Did they come close to the horror of her own?

**Author's Note:**

> Ana're shala = You're safe


End file.
